


*jazz hands* suffering

by welove1stickyboi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Asthma, Sort Of, bug spray, i fuckin forgot i wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:36:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welove1stickyboi/pseuds/welove1stickyboi
Summary: '“Peter. You need to breathe.”Through his struggle, Ned saw the other boy look at him incredulously. His knuckles were white around the blue plastic. Okay. Maybe I deserved that.'Maybe, just maybe, spraying Spiderman with pesticide wasn't a good idea.





	*jazz hands* suffering

**Author's Note:**

> *pets fic* smol

“Nuh-uh!  _ Bad _ Peter!”   
  
Evening was drawing to a close. It drained the light from the sky and revealed the lights from the buildings, like stars blooming out of the city in the dimness. Streetlamps glared orange in the faint dusk. Cars beamed bright lights onto the slick road. Neon signs pulsed, tinging the quietly falling rain with an electric glow.   
  
Arising from it was the ever-constant buzz that came from living in Queens. A car’s tires screeching, the slam of an apartment door, a siren wailing in the distance…   
  
Ned could only hear bits and pieces of it, though. Peter, on the other hand, could hear  _ everything _ .   
  
Including every petty crime that went down. He was  _ supposed _ to be having an off night.   
  
Peter’s brows furrowed at Ned’s protest, hands inches from unclasping the window latch. City noise filtered through the glass.   
  
“What?” he asked innocently. His head cocked to one side, and brown eyes filled with confusion.  _ Puppy eyes, _ Ned recognised, before shaking his head.  _ Nope. _   
  
Ned dove into his bag, revealing a fist-sized bottle, bright blue in colour. He shook it. He popped off the lid. He then, ignoring his best friend’s dawning realisation, sprayed it on Peter.   
  
“ _ Oh my g - _ What the hell, man!”   
  
“ _ Off night, _ Spider-Man,” Ned chided quietly, biting down on a smile. The other boy spluttered. “Peter, sometimes you’ve gotta take a break.”   
  
He glared at him through watery eyes tinged with red, chest shuddering. “ _ Cat, _ ” he wheezed, before breaking off to hack into his elbow again.   
  
Ned half-rose off the bed, hand outstretched. His fingers twitched. “… Dude? You good?”   
  
Peter slammed a palm against his chest. He gasped for breath. Stumbling over to his drawers, he fumbled for his blue inhaler.   
  
Ned looked on worriedly as he shoved it into his mouth. There was silence aside from the  _ click-huff _ of the inhaler and Peter’s harsh breathing.   
  
_ Well, that escalated quickly. _ __   
  
He wasn’t breathing in for long enough, Ned suddenly realised, making his way over.   
  
“Peter. You need to breathe.”   
  
Through his struggle, Ned saw the other boy look at him incredulously. His knuckles were white around the blue plastic.  _ Okay. Maybe I deserved that. _   
  
“You gotta -” Peter flopped to the floor. “Right,” Ned said, carefully pushing him so his back was straight against the wall. He immediately curled in on himself, breaths short and ragged, shoulders shaking. Ned’s heart melted. “No, no - you gotta sit up. C’mon.”   
  
He ended up beside Peter as he tried to get him to sit up. “You need to -” Ned put a hand on Peyer’s shoulder, steadying him. “Deep breaths. Calm  _ down. _ Relax _ ation _ . Stop  _ screaming _ .”   
  
He thought he caught an “oh my god” from the body beside him. The words worked a little, either way. Peter’s breaths became a little less desperate.   
  
But only a little.   
  
This was something they hadn’t done in a long time - they’d never needed to, after the bite. “Try again - has it been thirty?” he checked. Peter nodded, cheeks red. “Try again. Longer.”   
  
He managed six seconds of inhale before wheezing again. Ned urged him to continue, hand on his shoulder all the while.   
  
It lasted a tense eternity.   
  
Eventually, it was just the two of them in the bedroom, the only sound the remnants of Peter’s rattling breaths into the quiet. He was slumped against the wall, arm wrapped around his stomach. His eyelids were fluttering closed.   
  
“ _ Never _ ,” he heard Peter whisper, “Do that again.”   
  
Ned slid down the wall to join him. Hot breaths ghosted across his cheeks as he studied the other boy’s state. Exhausted, but fine.   
  
“… So. No laying eggs, but bug spray gets you?”   
  
Peter cracked an eye open to stare at him, deadpan. “Yeah. Please don’t tell the NYPD.”   
  
“Not planning on it.”   
  
A tired silence hung in the air. Through the glass of the window, muffled sounds of the night slipped into the room. He felt the body beside him tense at what was almost certainly some noise from out there.  __ Nope. No, nah, nope.   
  
“Peter.”   
  
“Mhm?” Innocent. Like he didn’t know Peter that well.   
  
“Off night. Cool?”   
  
A sigh fluttered over him. Resigned. “Cool.” A smile tinged his voice.   
  
Ned pulled up a wikihow article on how to deal with asthma attacks on his phone, and began to read.   
  
Cool.

**Author's Note:**

> me: h  
> google docs: WE FOUND YOU SOME TRASH DO YOU LIKE IT
> 
> i keep writing these tiny dabbles and posting em way later. i need a. some sort of work solely for drabbles
> 
> thanks for reading!!


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